


Like We've Sinned

by nerakrose



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hipsters, Half-Sibling Incest, Hipsters, Implied Sexual Content, Incest, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 06:17:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerakrose/pseuds/nerakrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is a tattoo artist and Thor loves dubstep more than should be possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like We've Sinned

Thor throws himself into it, is all rhythm and choppy movements under the strobe light and Loki watches, not a move going unnoticed. It's loud and brash and obnoxious but it is what they do, it is the music and the drugs and the alcohol or all three, and Loki always watches.

Because Thor knows the moves, knows the music like the core of his soul, and Loki is jealous. Loki knows the moves too, he can copy them perfectly, but that's all it is, copying, performing something learned. Thor is above all that, he just loses himself in it.

It's nice, it's good - Thor comes to him after a while, out of breath and thirsty and elated and Loki smiles and hands him a drink of water or a sip of his own drink, and then Thor is off again.

Loki watches the crowd, but never takes his eyes off his brother. Semi-brother, whatever he is, he doesn't care - they have something that goes beyond and above that.

Usually afterwards they walk home in silence, Thor lost in the clouds and Loki quietly contemplating them, their life, their flat, everything. Whether things will change, whether they'll keep going to the same club, keep drinking the same drinks, dance to the same songs.

Maybe not, maybe yes. They've been going to this club for two years, they've lived in their flat for three years and they've been a thing for four years.

No one questions it, maybe no one notices, but Loki doesn't care. Thor has friends, Loki has none, they have a third brother. Well Thor has a brother, Loki doesn't. They have a routine, they have jobs, Balder calls on Sundays, Thor's friends come to the café on Tuesdays and Loki works double shifts at the tattoo shop on Wednesdays.

There are the other things, the non-routine things. The bus rides to nowhere, the poetry slams and street corner gigs, the art museums and the piercing shops.

He has Thor. And this thing, and it is consuming him even as they fall into bed, too tired and too wired and it is a mess, but then it always is. The rhythm is there, or maybe it is the club downstairs; not their club but it is the same music and it shakes the walls and their bed and Loki lets himself get consumed in the heat and moans and sweaty skin.

Thor is that kind of person; he consumes all of you until you aren't sure what you have left. Yourself, or something else, or nothing at all? Sometimes Loki thinks all he has, all he is, is the impression Thor leaves on him.

But this is what they have and it is precious. It is more precious than what the world thinks, than what Thor's friends think, than what their family think.

"Are we still doing this?" Loki whispers and Thor smiles at him, and it is sad. Or is that Loki projecting? He does that a lot, but then - it is Thor, and he can't bear -

"What is this?" Thor asks and Loki has no answer.

They have this thing and it's undefined and sometimes vague, sometimes not. He catches Sif look at them sometimes and there's this calculating glint in her eyes, and sometimes Hogun leers. Balder never says anything. But they live in this flat, this one bedroom flat with the tiny living room and even smaller kitchen, and there's a battered sofa and walls covered with books and records and a single plant in the window.

The music reverberates up through the walls and the bedframe and the lamp in the ceiling sways with the rhythm.

And Loki closes his eyes and lets Thor's scent wash over him, his touches, the bed sheets and the musky smell of their bedroom and the music, lets it fill him to the core.

"We'll be all right," Thor says and Loki believes him.

"Aren't we already?" he says and Thor's smile is blinding and his chest rumbles with laughter.

Thor traces the ink on Loki's skin with his fingertips, the lines and circles that hold no meaning, but cover his delicate skin in a beautiful pattern. The darkness in their bedroom makes the lines look black.

There is only the two of them and their oblivious family - or not so oblivious, Loki doesn't really care, actually quite enjoys getting the occasional rise out of Odin, being suggestive and lewd and the shrewd child he's always been. He considers coming out to them, laying his and Thor's relationship bare. He wonders what their faces will look like.

"Will you tattoo me next week?" Thor asks, suddenly, and Loki is startled out of his reverie. "For my twenty-fifth."

"Of course," Loki answers and his voice is soft.


End file.
